Ad Astra, Fidelis
by Ozone Layer
Summary: Lorenzo Ruiz wanted to be a normal Marine. His experiences direct him otherwise. From a basic infantryman to something much more than he can ever imagine: One of the Invisible Heroes of the Reaper War. Follows the timeline of Shepard during his escapades through ME1, 2 and 3. Rated M for violence, language and gore imagery.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **Ad astra, fidelis. (To the stars, faithful.)

The story is not about Shepard. You have been warned. His actions will be reflected in the story, but nevertheless, he only serves as the timeline keeper of sorts.

Shepard will be paired with Liara as I see that as the most canon due to their immense closeness. He will be following the Paragon path.

Thank you to my Beta Readers for assisting me in this small undertaking of mine. Thanks, you guys.

**Disclaimer:** I do not or ever will own the Bioware company or the Mass Effect series. The characters depicted (save for a few original characters of mine) are theirs and I am merely using artistic license to depict a fan story that goes alongside Shepard's story line.

I hope you like this. Cheers, mates.

* * *

**Prologue**

It was a calm night. The air was still, not a single leaf rustled in the trees. The steady hum of the transport bus tried to coax him to sleep, but he refused. It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep, he knew upon arrival he wouldn't sleep much for the next few days. No, he'd rather have his mind focused on the upcoming task. The boy looked out the window on his side, taking in the view of the rapid passing scenery. He turned his head upwards to the starry sky. They were in the middle of nowhere; it was pitch black outside, save the bus' lights. He could see the stars twinkling in the sky above him; the arms of the Milky Way were distinct. He smirked to himself as he thought. _After three months, I'll be up there._

Lorenzo Johansson Ruiz thought that it was funny that just a month ago he graduated from high school with exceptional scores in astronomy, calculus and human histories. He could've gone to any Ivy League school with his grades, yet he chose to enlist anyway. He was inspired by his grandmother; she had been a marine as had both of her parents. He was now on a bus full of other hopefuls, on their way to the Systems Alliance Marine Corps Recruiting Depot (SAMCRD), San Diego. The Hollywood Marines.

Despite the new ranks, leaders, training, manuals, directives, objectives, orders, and battle standards, the Marine Corps were very much the same: Still attached to the Navy and still full of grunts and jarheads. "Semper Fidelis" was still the motto of the Alliance Marines that came out United North American States SAMCRDs San Diego and Parris Island. Old habits die hard, they said.

* * *

The year was 2183; humanity had finally stepped out into the final frontier: Space. It was merely 35 years ago when explorers on Mars found out that humans were not alone in the universe. A long abandoned alien research station, belonging to an ancient spacefaring race, was found. The treasure trove of the alien technology accelerated humanity's own by at least two hundred years and it was recognized as a singular event that changed human history forever.

The reaction back on Earth was nothing short of a mixed bag of nuts. Religions scrambled to piece the information into their doctrines, denying it or accepting it was one of the two results. Governments established their own explorations to Mars. Books were written, and new tales were created to tell children. The world focused their attention on the red planet, waiting for more treasures to be recovered.

In the following weeks and months, researchers came to the conclusion that the data they collected was owned by a race called the Protheans. Their estimations led to the conclusion that they had left Mars around 50, 000 years ago; during a time where the Cro-Magnon humans hunted and gathered. The question now was, "where did they go?"

After studying the technology, the people of Earth finally managed to decode the secrets to trans-solar space travel. From there on Einstein's physics laws were suspended; faster-than-light travel was possible. It was a monumental discovery that allowed humans to go where they never thought they would be able to go. More so, they found out that the Protheans made trips around the galaxy using mass relays. The mass relays were the "teleporters," that humanity once pictured in their science fiction tales. Using the decoded data from the research station they found that Charon, Pluto's moon, was just that; a mass relay encased in ice. The Charon relay was a direct link to the Arcturus system, some 36.7 light years away. Starships were quickly assembled using the newfound Prothean technology and space exploration soon became commonplace. Spaceports were set up in major cities and ever since, humanity's eyes were set on venturing into the cold, unknown, beautiful frontier.

From that point on, humanity quickly spread its arms throughout the galaxy. From the years of 2149, on Earth, the world's 18 largest nations eventually ratified and convened to form the Systems Alliance parliament, the military and exploratory spearhead of humanity. The Alliance Navy officially set its first military base in the Arcturus system. In 2156 the station was inaugurated and made the headquarters for the Alliance, outside of the human home planet.

Taking a small step back, in the year 2157, at the height of human expansion, an answer was finally given to the question of whether or not there were other spacefaring races in current existence.

A small human expeditionary detail was attacked while they were activating another dormant mass relay. An action soon recognized as extremely dangerous by the still unknown galactic government, the Citadel Council. Only one ship made it back to the colony of Shanxi, where the opposing faction followed it to. Soon after, the colony was occupied by an alien race. It was written down in the history books as the only human territory to have been captured by an alien race.

The occupiers belonged to the race called turians, an avian-looking bipedal race that prided itself on their military prowess. The Turian Hierarchy belonged to the Citadel Council, a galactic government conglomerate alongside the Asari Republic and the Salarian Union. In the turian's defense, they were merely doing their job. Humanity had unknowingly broken one of the Council's laws; they had activated a dormant mass relay.

Even though the colony of Shanxi was under turian control, humanity responded with finesse that surprised even the Council. The human's 2nd fleet came in and retaliated with awe, pushing the turians off the colony and proving their war skills for the whole galaxy to see. The whole fiasco, resulting in 623 human casualties and a little more for the turians was named, "The Relay 314 Incident," or now more commonly known as, "The First Contact War."

Despite recent hostilities, the Council saw the potential of humanity; it was massive. After diplomatic meetings with the rest of the galactic government, humans were given an embassy in the Citadel, the heart of the galactic community. Humanity was recognized as the fastest race to ever prove itself as a military and expeditionary power due to their show of combat ability and colonial progress despite the short war with turians.

Humanity showed the galaxy what they were able to do, and they were damn proud of it. Despite their triumphs, however, some races looked down on them, calling them nothing but an arrogant, childish and reckless species.

* * *

The bus slowed to a stop and Lorenzo's heart skipped a beat.

A Drill Instructor stepped inside the bus, bellowing loudly enough to rock everyone from their slumber. It was difficult to comprehend the man; his words were more like grunts. Uncontrollable spit was flying everywhere and before he knew it, Lorenzo was out of his bus, standing at attention on the famous _or rather infamous _yellow footsteps. Men were lining up beside, in front and behind him; ages ranged from 17 to 22, skin tones differed, heights manifested and fear was visible on everyone's face.

He was right. The first three days, Lorenzo, or better yet, Recruit Ruiz, had little to no sleep at all. He was burdened with fatigue and all he could think of during that time was questioning and judging himself. _"What have I gotten myself into?"_

Much to his surprise, the yelling and intimidation started to become normal, he was stripped of his civilian habits and he remembered how much he wanted this.

On his fifth week of thirteen, the Senior Drill Instructor (SDI) recognized him. During chow time, the SDI approached and called out Ruiz, who of course, out of habit, instinctively snapped to attention in the presence of Operations Chief Morris.

"Recruit Ruiz reporting as ordered, sir!" He screamed, turning the head of the other recruits around him.

"Tell me, Ruiz, are you somehow related to Staff Lieutenant Aimeesdottir-Ruiz?"  
"Yes, sir!"  
"You're telling me that you're related to the only woman in the First-Contact War to take down a full-sized turian ground infantry platoon with a sniper rifle? The one that earned a Star of Terra posthumously?"  
"This recruit is the grandson of the mentioned Staff Lieutenant, sir!"  
"I'll be damned, it's a shame she died while doing so! Where is your father, Operations Chief Gabriel Ruiz?"  
"Sir, Operations Chief Gabriel Ruiz is currently aboard the SSV Cape Town!"  
"Came from a line of Marines, aren't you, Ruiz?"  
"Yes, sir!"  
"Very well, resume chow."  
"Aye-aye, sir!"

* * *

At the beginning of the last two weeks of Ruiz's training, the Alliance News Network had focused their attention to an Alliance Navy officer; Lieutenant Commander John Shepard was the subject of various news headlines due to his actions. The massacre on one of Earth's largest colonies, Eden Prime, triggered a series of events that led to Lieutenant Commander Shepard being instated as the first human Citadel Council Spectre, an elite and exclusive, enforcing branch of the galactic government. This, of course, was considered a new milestone for humanity. As restricted as the news was, everyone knew that Lieutenant Commander Shepard was pursuing a rogue Spectre named Saren Arterius, a turian with an apparent hatred for humans, dating back since the First Contact War. Not only that to Saren was also identified as working with the geth, a race of sapient artificial intelligence manufactured by the quarians.

The geth were known as the AI that rebelled against their creators, pushing them off of their own homeworld, sending the quarians through a nomadic journey in the stars. Since that event, the geth hid themselves from the galaxy; no one heard from them in three hundred years. That was until now, and it baffled every individual. Better yet, everyone wondered why after such a long time of hiding, they chose to work with a rogue Spectre.

In the end, one thing really piqued the galaxy's interest, who were the Reapers that Lieutenant Commander Shepard mentioned?

* * *

The final week had begun; the recruits had finished their Crucible test, a grueling 54-hour culminating activity that tested everything they have learned, already earned their Warrior's Breakfast, a feast where recruits get to eat everything and anything they wanted, including foods regarded as, "illegal," and most importantly, they finally ceased to be recruits. They were now Alliance Marines. They were proud.

The next morning, as they marched out on the parade deck, in front of their waiting families, Ruiz, or better yet, Private Ruiz, couldn't help but shed a single tear. Despite the unmanly action, he knew that he wasn't alone on that feeling. Besides, why wouldn't he? He was one of the squad leaders of his platoon, earned an Expert Marksmanship Badge and assigned as a rifleman, 0311 in the old U.S. Marines, but a C1 in the current Alliance Military vocational code. The Drill Instructor yelled out a command to face left, followed by a command telling them to go into parade rest. After that, the civilian crowds sitting in the bleachers facing the Marines were asked to stand for the arrival of the reviewing officer; Admiral Hackett. Followed by a few parade movements, the audience was asked to sit and the Admiral made his address. He stood up in front of the audience, standing tall behind a pearly white podium in his dress blues. His voice got the attention of every pair of ears around, power emanated from the aging officer's words as he paused between sentences.

"I am currently here in the SAMCRD San Diego, away from my posting in the Arcturus Station to recognize the people in front of me. Back when I was eighteen, I was in the shoes of the men standing before me, in tears as I stood in the position they are currently in. Even though I enlisted for the Alliance Navy and not the Marines, the same principle applied. Many thoughts were clouding my head at that time and one of them questioned my actions, asking me, 'what have I done?' I assured myself that I was doing the right thing. That's what I want the Marines before me thinking. They have volunteered themselves for the largest military humanity has ever conjured. It doesn't matter where they came from anymore. From here on in, they are Marines, coming from Earth and that's what they'll be identified as, wherever they end up. Some of them will be posted in places where danger is the way of life, some of them will be working aboard ships, and some of them will be working here, on Earth. Make no mistake; the journey is filled with danger, but it is something that they had prepared for. They have proved themselves worthy of their title and they will carry it for the rest of their lives, just like everyone else before them. Semper Fidelis, Marines."

"Senior Drill Instructors, dismiss your platoons!" He ordered.

"Aye-aye, sir!" The instructors replied in unison.

The SDIs then turned to face their respective platoons, ceremonial sabres resting on their shoulders. From the furthest platoon from the left to the right, the SDIs individually called their platoons to attention.

"Platoon 2033, atten-hut!"  
"Platoon 2034, atten-hut!"  
"Platoon 2035, atten-hut!"

Ruiz snapped to attention, feeling the anticipation building up as his Platoon 2035 moved all together in sync.

"Dismissed!" The instructors bellowed for the last time in the presence of their platoons.

The Marines took one step back.

"Aye-aye, Operations Chief!" They all screamed.

Private Lorenzo Ruiz then executed an about face, at the same time as everyone around him.

Applause.

_"Holy crap, I actually made it." _He thought, but he was going to keep that to himself.

Amongst the crowd of the happy families reuniting with their sons and daughters, Lorenzo searched the parade deck for his step-mother. Like Admiral Hackett said, a million thoughts were running through his head at this time. The first one was directed at his father serving on an Alliance ship, Ruiz knew that if was here, he would've been congratulating the hell out of his son and then promptly chew him out, him being fresh out of boot camp and all, but proud nonetheless. The second thought raced to LtCmd. Shepard. He idolized the Commander. The last news he heard about him, which was merely a few thirty or so minutes ago, was that he "stole" the SSV Normandy from the Alliance custody to keep searching and zero in on Saren, even though the Council themselves rebuked him the right to do so.

"There you are!" A familiar voice echoed in his ear, breaking his focus.

"Hi, Alissa, nice to see you!" Lorenzo muttered, sarcastically, showing his particular dislike for the woman that replaced his biological mother who died in the Skyllian Blitz, a surprise attack by batarians on a colony in the Skyllian Verge. That was a few years back, but since his dad is quite a horny old bastard, he looked for a trophy wife that he would care for and that's what he got. Lorenzo defied it, but he wanted his father to at least be happy in a way, even though he didn't like every bit of it.

"Why'd you ignore me when you were running with your platoon earlier today?"  
"Oh, I must've missed you. I didn't even realize we were past you guys."  
"Well, considering the crap you have been through these past three months, you look good!"  
"Thanks, I guess."  
"Tomorrow, on the start of your ten-day leave, I'll buy you your own omnitool, the one that fits with Alliance regulations. Think of it as a gift."  
"Right on, thanks, Alissa."  
"You can call me mom, you know, I've been married to your dad for three years now."  
"Maybe one day."

_Fuck you._

* * *

Lorenzo didn't have to wait for his old alarm clock to wake him up. Out of habit, he got up at around 0455 (People on Earth still use their time zones, but switch to Galactic Standard Time – GLT once free of the planet's atmosphere) thinking back of the time when the DI back in boot camp picked up his bunk and turned him over, causing his bed to land on top of him. That was all because he was still asleep at 0505, five minutes overboard.

As he imaginatively pictured himself shambling across the house in his thoughts, he made a mental note to remember the GLT before his ten-day leave is over.

_Galactic Standard Time has 20 hours in a day, 100 minutes each hour, 100 seconds each minute, but seconds are only half as long as human ones. Curse you, galaxy._

The morning was still dark and it reminded him of the time fifteen weeks ago when he arrived at the Recruiting Depot. He blew a raspberry to the air and he stood up, slowly, savoring the better fluffiness of his bed, the extra minutes, and managing to stretch without attracting the excruciating voices of the DI's.

The house he was sleeping in currently was his parents' house. He figured that since he'd probably be shifted around from posting to posting, he wouldn't need a permanent residence just yet. He liked this house, actually. If it wasn't for the woman sleeping in his father's bedroom, it would've been a perfect day to wake up to.

Lorenzo went downstairs to make some coffee, but due to his curiosity, he opened the pantry to see what he could eat. Wheat bread, some asari pastry, some Alliance-issue protein bars and a couple of containers with instant ramen noodles were available on the first shelf. Mostly aggravated that there was nothing that interested him, he shut the pantry door, instead turning his direction to fridge standing pristine next to the wooden hatch. He snickered when he sighted the half-eaten pie lying in wait on the corner of the top shelf. Rubbing his tummy, he swooped in and grabbed the platter it was resting on, snatched a fork off a tray and gobbled the remaining coconut crème pie.

* * *

It was about midday when Alissa brought Lorenzo over to the Serrice Council outlet to purchase him an omnitool. He was surprised as SC products were considered the best manufacturers of bio-amps and omnitools. Lorenzo was familiar with the rigorous screening process they require for bio-amp buyers, but since he was only going for an omnitool and as an Alliance soldier, he knew he would breeze through the purchase process.

The outlet building was glistening in the late October Los Angeles sun, its reflective windows shone down on its wide parking lot, which was needless to say, packed with skycars and civilians alike. The humans always loved to shop in outlet malls. Lorenzo saw a few alien species walking about; three turians, some asari and a couple of salarians. It wasn't a surprise really; the Los Angeles spaceport was one of the many links to the commercial network of business-inspired individuals from various races.

Alissa somehow felt the bad blood rising again between Lorenzo and herself, despite her efforts throughout the years to connect to the boy. _Man. He's a man now. Don't call him a boy._ Seeing as Lorenzo seemed to distance himself from her, she willingly obliged to just give him the certificate to show to the Serrice Council saleswoman to present him the Savant V series omnitool. _Please just smile when you receive that, please? That's good enough for me._

She saw Lorenzo give a forceful cheery nod to acknowledge the fact the she managed to read his body language. "Congratulations again, Lorenzo." She whispered.

"Thank you, really. Why don't you try on some asari dresses? They seem to be the hit with our girls lately." Lorenzo commented, actually managing to sound sincere this time.

"Maybe I should. I'll see you back at home, I suppose?" She waved, and with that, Alissa offered a comforting smile to herself as she walked away in an different direction.

Lorenzo took a few steps around the corner when he was greeted by a woman dressed in a vintage 21st century business suit advertising a human antiquities store and out of common courtesy, he returned the gesture. The mall was quite crowded today, he noticed, but didn't seem bothered by it. The alien architecture was spreading in the building. It wasn't entirely human design anymore; it was obvious that turian and asari influences were starting to leak in. Not that it was a bad thing; but Lorenzo merely wished that humans would still at least be the dominant style in their home world. _I hope that didn't make me sound like a human supremacist. That's worse than being a three-headed dog. Stupid 21__st__ century vid-games with demons. Icy demons, what the hell am I thinking about now? Damn it, Lorenzo, focus. _

He walked into a wide corridor with restaurant windows available for serving food. His nostrils were filled with delicacies from all over the planet and not surprisingly, some from different parts of the galaxy. The most notable one was the asari cuisine. It made him wonder how similar the asari were to the humans; and their race has human-like faces, save for the fringes in place of human hair, the skin tone that ranged from hues of blue to shades of green, they were very much like human females—especially in physiology. One fact that stood out though, asari were mono-gendered—male or female didn't mean anything to them, though as far as any race was concerned, everyone else referred to their race as feminine. It was bias, Lorenzo supposed.

As he continued his stride, he absentmindedly thought of how all the sapient races managed to look "humanoid." He recalled his high school lessons where the simplest explanation was that species that became bipedal would always evolve to be successful, that they would thrive and eventually learn about the universe around them. It was amusing, he thought, remembering the lecture about how humans pictured aliens back in the old past. If the humans then would see the aliens they fear now, they would probably shit themselves in awe, Lorenzo thought.

_Bah, don't forget that asari have an average lifespan of a thousand years. Damn universe. Always loves the diversity. Forty-year lifers for the salarians; turians and quarians are dextro-amino acid based, while everyone else so far became levo-amino acid based. Well done, universe. You're a moron._

It took him a few minutes until he finally reached the Serrice Council outlet. Describing the interior as elegant would be an understatement. The whole place had a unique boutique-look like to it, glossy walls, glittering glass and shimmering corners lit up the view. It seemed as if a little palace for little girls was brought to life. Ruiz was stunned as he looked at the scenery in front of him, he was sure that the last time he saw a place like this was on a brochure and even then, he thought it was just an overly pretty place. He was wrong. His mind just changed around that opinion.

"Hello." Lorenzo said to the asari saleswoman that approached him.

Ruiz saw the asari move her mouth to greet back, but he didn't recognize any of the words she might've have muttered. In return, he simply gave the asari a confused look. She caught on fast though, recognizing the situation. She responded by quickly apologizing, slightly bowing and proceeded to talk in heavily accented English.

"Ahm surri. Ah thaght vu han va fraanslaytur."

Lorenzo was smiling at the sheer amusing sight of an asari speaking English. The asari returned the smile. All races seemed to have universal body languages; the simplest ones, at least. She led him to a counter where another asari behind it waited, seemingly amused at the recent event that just occurred as well. The second asari handed Lorenzo a small circular ear bud and directed him to put it in his left ear.

"Eets va fraanslaytur. Eets guvving vu gelp." The first asari instructed him.

_Ah, the joys of quantum mechanics and computing; Translation of another otherworldly language faster than the speed of light_, Lorenzo thought, following what the asari said.

"Can you hear me now, sir?" The accent was gone, but the same tone and sincerity flowed through from the asari's voice. Lorenzo nodded as a response. With that, the first asari returned to the entrance of the outlet, responding to a turian carrying a package. The second asari however, proceeded to attend to him.

"That's good to hear. What can I help you with today, sir? Do you have a reservation or are you here to make one?"

"Actually, I'm here to um… I have this certificate actually." He fished out the said certificate, placing it on top the glass countertop.

The asari slid her hand over to pick the certificate and her face lighted up with slight wonder.

"Savant V? Whoever presented this to you must really care about you, sir. These things are a fortune! Top of the line processors and applications, massive memory storage, cutting edge quantum computing, all the classy things that would make a rich investor swoon. You're very lucky sir. May I ask what the reason for this gift certificate is?" The asari sounded oddly more excited than Lorenzo himself, but he didn't shy away from his answer though.

"My um… My _mother_ presented it to me as a gift. I recently graduated from Alliance boot camp. Not long ago, as a matter of fact."

The asari beamed with surprise at the revelation. A whole rush of respect for the marine in front of him became apparent. She knew how Alliance personnel must be treated. The asari nodded in a pleasant way to Lorenzo before signaling the other asari to pick something up from the store room in the back. In the meanwhile, she would keep talking to him. The security protocols for the newest models were lengthy and would probably take a good ten minutes to get the new omnitool out of its storage packaging.

"She will get your omnitool out here shortly. May I see your identification, sir?"

Ruiz handed his ID to the blue hand extending from the asari.

"Private Lorenzo Ruiz. 19 years old. Alliance Military, C1, fit for duty, pending for Hostile Environment Assault Training on Titan and currently on graduation leave." The asari read as if she was declaring a statement.

Lorenzo was a bit uncomfortable with the fact that every time Alliance military personnel would acquire an object, the ID was to be read out loud. _Who thought of that protocol? _The asari placed the ID aside for now. It was to be scanned later for proper assignment of the omnitool.

"May I reintroduce myself? My name is Seriya; I'll be your guide for the omnitool when you get it, Mr. Ruiz." She said, slightly bowing in respect.

"Hey, my name is Lorenzo and I'd actually prefer if you pretend that I'm not Alliance. I'm still not used to it." He offered a hand, which the Seriya recognized and shook it, as per the human culture mentioned.

"It seems that my assistant is taking a while. Would you like small talk, perhaps, Lorenzo?"

_Ugh._ He heard about asari promiscuity rumors before, but he hoped that this one wouldn't be one of them. He merely wanted a conversation to kill the time at least, so he obliged.

"Sure. I'll start. I know the facts… How old are you? If that was rude, it's okay if you don't answer." Lorenzo started off, leaning a bit backwards, distancing himself from a possible hostile reply. Nothing happened though, the asari simply chuckled.

"We asari get that question a lot here on Earth. I'm 231 years old."  
"So you must've seen our whole race be recognized?"  
"Yes, I did, sir. I was actually surprised. You looked similar to us."  
"That's what we humans thought… _You_ looked similar to _us._ We must've made a scene, didn't we? First Contact War and all..?"  
"I was not surprised when that happened. You had a military, they had a military, and both have never met each other. Hostility was expected."  
"Ah. Yet you're here. Aren't you afraid of us? A lot of turians still dislike my kind."  
"No, I was fascinated and I am not a turian. When I heard that Serrice was opening a branch on Earth five years ago, I jumped on the opportunity. I brought my mother here with me as a matter of fact. She ended up bonding with a human male."  
"Bonding?"  
"It is roughly the asari equivalent of your human marriage traditions. They are both happy. They are in this city called Vancouver, when I last contacted her."

Lorenzo paused for a few seconds at the mention of the word, "bonding." Seriya noticed this and piqued her interest.

"It does not bother you, does it, sir?" She asked, displaying slight regret at the mention of her mother and her bond mate.

"No, I'm just a bit surprised. It's the first I've heard of human-asari relationships. I guess I'm a bit uninformed on that side of progress."  
"I'm glad, sir. A good amount of humans look down upon it. They do not realize that asari bonds with other races are very beneficial to us."  
"With that, I have a question in mind and I would like to hear an answer. So can an asari have children with humans then? We didn't exactly cover that in Galactic Species Studies back in school."  
"Yes. Asari have the ability to have offspring with any race as we only give birth to asari children. It's called melding."  
"You got me confused there?"  
"When asari meld with a different species, we only take the genetic code for reference, to broaden the gene pool. The outcome will always be an asari with recessive traits from the father species. My sister who is only 3 years old is one. She's an asari, but you can observe some traits from her father."

Ruiz had just taken part in his first cross-species conversation and it turned out much better and slightly more awkward that he expected. He wasn't disgusted with the thought of interspecies romance, the idea seemed normal to him. _Love is love. This is a new generation. It's time to let go of certain ancient biases._

"That's very interesting."  
"If you don't mind sir, I have a question for your human rituals for marriage."  
"What for?"  
"A human female has gotten close to me. She is very interested in me as I am in her. She has mentioned marriage, she wants me to wear a _weeding_ dress someday, she said."  
"Ah, it's 'wedding' dress, by the way. So what's the question?"  
"What is the wedding ring? I'm sorry, I am still learning English. The vocabulary is quite confusing, even with the translators."  
"A wedding ring is a symbol of marriage; you wear it from the ceremony onwards. To show your love and that you are not available to others. I'm sure the extranet would give you a better explanation."

The asari's assistant re-entered the room with Ruiz's new omnitool. "I see. Thank you. Now, let's get you fitted shall we?"

* * *

It was Lorenzo's third day of leave; he laid down the living room couch, playing around with his new omnitool placed around his left arm and wrist, further familiarizing himself with it when a notification appeared on the neon orange holographic interface. The message was marked urgent and upon seeing the sender he realized why. The message was from Alliance Military. His eyes widened in surprise as he read the message:

"ALL ALLIANCE PERSONNEL ARE TO REPORT TO THEIR RESPECTIVE UNITS. THE CITADEL IS UNDER SIEGE. CASUALTIES RISING. THE FIFTH FLEET HAS TAKEN LOSSES.

-ALLIANCE CMD"

_Who in the fucking universe would attack the Citadel? The Fifth Fleet… Oh God. Dad._

The omnitool lit up again as another message presented itself.

"ORDERS, PVT. RUIZ.

Report to LAX Space Port for immediate departure to the Citadel. You have been assigned to the 102nd Marine Division, 1st Brigade, 6th Infantry Regiment, Foxtrot Company.

Brookes, T  
Major  
Commanding Officer  
102nd Division, 1st Brigade"

All of the sudden, he heard his step mother start bawling. He had hardly noticed the sound coming from the vid-screen in her room. He made his way down the hall and listened to the broadcast, "…in the attack of the Citadel today. We say again that the SSV Cape Town has been destroyed. The Destiny Ascension was saved by the sacrifice of the Cape Town…"

_The SSV Cape Town went down… SSV Cape Town. Went down. _He didn't even have time to register what he had just heard before another message pinged on his omnitool.

"Pvt. Ruiz,

The LAX Alliance transport will leave in one hour.

-Cortez, S  
Lieutenant  
Shuttle Pilot, SSV Stockholm"

Sniffing in his sobs, he hurried to his room to pack his gear in bags when Lorenzo heard Alissa cry from her room, it was the time he had ever heard her swear. Apparently the news had sunk in.

"No… NO, NO, NO! FUCK! SHIT! NO, GABRIEL!"

Lorenzo forgot all about the hatred he bottled up for Alissa, because at the mention of his father's name, he shared an instant mutual connection to her, one that he refused to recognize all along. He walked down the hall and wrapped his arms around his step mother, comforting her as she released her tears and sobbing into his shoulder. They didn't say anything. Alissa sobbed, while Lorenzo mustered all his willpower to not bawl over what just transpired. The step-mother didn't seem to care or notice that Lorenzo finally hugged her, especially with tears running down his cheeks.

"Mom… I have to go. Major Brookes assigned me. I have to participate in retrieval operations." He whispered, still sobbing slightly, disregarding the fact that he just called Alissa, "mom."

Lorenzo finally realized that this woman was not to hate. He let down all his anger for Alissa and just accepted the fact that she loved his father as he did. Ruiz couldn't let his mom go even after saying that he had to.

_Its ridiculous how you had to die for me accept your new wife. I'm sorry, dad. I'm so fucking sorry._

Alissa embraced his step-son tighter upon recognizing the sudden change of Lorenzo towards her. She stifled her sobs to respond to him, still holding him close, even if her hands and arms were shaking from utter shock.

"Okay… Okay. You do what you have to do. Just let me know that you'll come back. Please." Alissa whimpered. She was still choking on her words, but meant everything she just said.

"I will, mom. We'll bury dad together. I'll be back."

_I will._


	2. Chapter 1: Nightingale

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. Physics Final took up the most of my vacation and drill competitions ate my other available time. Will try to update more often now. I'd like to thank my final semester in high school for being filled with easy electives now.**

**Sorry for the constant reuploading? Troubles with the site.**

**Thanks to my betas. Sure do appreciate your jobs.**

**Disclaimer: ME series is not mine. Blah, blah, blah, they belong to BioWare.**

* * *

**Nightingale**

"_The SSV Normandy has been obliterated by an unknown force-"_

"_Lieutenant Commander Shepard declared KIA along with twenty other crewmen-"_

"_This is one of the biggest tragedies we've had in the Alliance-"_

"_He was the bravest man I've ever known."  
_

The news vids played back in his head over and over again as he walked away from the Los Angeles Spaceport, while hailing a taxicab. Ruiz, like everyone else that looked up to Shepard, was astonished by the event that transpired a few weeks ago. Lieutenant Commander Shepard, the first human Spectre, was dead. The SSV Normandy, the first human-turian manufactured ship, destroyed. There was a huge media frenzy following the attack. No one knew who the instigators were. The only description of the opposing ship that was presented came from the Normandy's pilot, Flight Lieutenant Jeff "Joker" Moreau.

"_Honestly, it looked like a big ridiculous ant hill with metals and thrusters sticking out of it."_

Ruiz stretched his neck out by moving his head in a circular motion. The Alliance dress blues were a bit tight on the neck. As a bright yellowish taxicab stopped in front of him, he fixed his hat, or rather, cover, before picking up his luggage and getting in the vehicle. The winter chill of December crept on him when the door closed. The driver looked at him and offered a cough to get his attention. Ruiz shot a glance back and said, "Los Angeles National Cemetery."

Ruiz looked out of the window before turning back to the driver and adding, "You don't mind staying there for thirty or so minutes won't you?"

"I've had customers who I stayed with for hours. I have a few friends there as well. It won't be problem, señor." With that, the car drove off.

That was where Ruiz looked at the seemingly aged driver and his seat area.

The driver had a long scar running down his left cheek. Yet, the most distinguishing feature was the sticker on the car's dashboard. Ruiz turned his head away to watch the passing, bustling metropolitan skyline that he hasn't seen in over a year. He could only bring a small smile as he reread the sticker in his mind. Two silver arches with a globe underneath; the Systems Alliance insignia, with text overlapping it.

"I have a souvenir from Shanxi. Look at my face."

* * *

On Earth, the date was 22 December, 2184. Alissa Solheim-Ruiz looked over herself in the mirror once more before stepping out and closing her bedroom door. Her step-son was due to arrive for a one month vacation and they both agreed to meet up at the cemetery where her husband's remains rested. She still couldn't get over the fact that it's been a year and two months since he passed. Every single day, she would place a plateful of food to where Gabriel Ruiz would usually sit during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She simply couldn't let go just yet. Alissa never took off the ring that rested on her petite left hand. She doesn't want to remarry again.

The windy day made itself prevalent when Alissa walked out in the open, towards her parked car. She mentally scolded herself for not tying her hair up, as it was getting blown all over the place. Her omnitool sent off an automatic signal and her blue skycar's door hissed open. As soon as she got in, she immediately fixed her now-bushy shoulder-length hair. Alissa was about to drive off when her omnitool pinged to signify that it just received a message. She flicked her wrist and the omnitool emitted a bright orange hue as the holographic interface came to view. The message was from Lorenzo.

"Mom,

I just landed a few minutes ago. I'm on the way to dad. See you there.  
P.S., guess what? The cab driver is a veteran of Shanxi. He has a mean ass scar on his cheek."

Alissa chuckled at the last line. She turned her omnitool down and reached over on the dashboard of her car, flicking a small switch on. Clearing her throat, she commanded, "Turn radio on."

The car livened up with a tune from the 20th century, it was Queen. Alissa then drove out of her parking spot and on to the road. The middle of the song got her singing along.

"_I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me.  
He's just a poor boy, from poor family; spare him his life from this monstrosity!  
Easy come, easy go - will you let me go?  
Bismillah! No! We will not let you go!"_

She then contemplated whether or not to sing along on the high-pitched part of the song.

* * *

Ruiz couldn't stop giggling like a child as he stood over his father's grave.

"Shit, dad. I always fart every time I visit you. This is the second time."

He knelt down slowly, putting his hand over on the granite tombstone. Lorenzo never failed to read the epitaph out every occasion he visited.

"OChf Gabriel Ruiz (9 November 2136 – 15 October 2183)  
Quartermaster, SSV Cape Town  
'Beloved father, wife, and Marine.'"

The smile on Lorenzo's face slowly faded as images of how they found his father's body replayed themselves.

_A badly mangled corpse, a metal beam impaling his chest, an M-7 rifle, forcefully welded by space exposure, stuck in his right forearm. Severe burns to the face, his hardsuit, charred and had parts missing. His brown eyes wide open, staring into what caused his demise; the Reaper, Sovereign's lethal red beam tearing apart the SSV Cape Town. He floated in the darkness, surprising retrievers. He was one of the five corpses recovered from the wreckage of his ship. Everybody else was vaporized. _

"_Ruiz, we found your father. Are you sure you want to see the body?"  
"YES. Get me to him. Please."_

_Lorenzo then messaged Alissa._

"_They found him. Mom, they found him…"  
"Is he alive? I know it's a far-fetche—"  
"No. I'm going to see him now. I'll get back to you later."  
"Listen to me; do what you can to bring him home, okay? You promise me that."  
"I will."_

Lorenzo then snapped back into reality. He sat down on the grass, not minding the possible stain it can deliver to his dress trousers. He started to talk, to the grave. To a stranger, this might seem puzzling to look at, but to someone who misses anyone who died, this is normal.

"You never even showed up to my graduation, dammit. Or my promotion. You're such an asshole… I miss you. Mom is coming by in a few minutes."

He leaned forward.

"Have I told you how the Senior D.I. at SAMCRD recognized me and he asked where were you? Crazy. Then just a few weeks later, you had to die. Jerk. You owed me a lesson on how to cook steak. Alissa can't cook that shit for shit. She always does it well-done even if I requested medium-rare. Ever taught her? Geez."

He turned his head up to the cloudless sky for a few seconds, and then switched his attention back to the tombstone. He chuckled as he continued.

"I got promoted to Corporal just a week ago. A lot of guys say that it's unfair that I got promoted that fast and I can't argue. I've only been in for a year. I still like it though, more pay. We hunted a couple of geth holdouts and I'm getting used to the infantry life. Alissa keeps joking around that I'm going to get offered an N7 training invitation soon. Utter bullshit. I've only been sent to six planets and shot a couple of geth. Nothing about that sounds N7-quality. The only gripe I have is that Noveria is really freaking cold even with the hardsuit heaters on. I still don't like the cold weather; I think I'll never get used to it. Alissa suggested we move to Sweden so I can get used to that. I'm actually thinking about it. Isn't that where you two met, at your buddy's wedding reception in Stockholm?"

"Yeah and he got my attention by dancing over to my friend's table like a bloody moron." Alissa responded. Smiling at the memory of how he met him. "Imagine a burly man wiggling his hips as if he was a belly dancer."

Alissa sat down next Lorenzo as he nearly fell over laughing at the mental image. She took out a rose from her handbag and placed it in front of the tombstone. "Oh, you're here now." Lorenzo took notice.

"Was he drunk?" He held his hysterics to form the words properly.

"I would think so." She giggled as she said in return.

The two conversed for a few minutes until Alissa pulled out a chocolate bar out of her handbag and offered it to Lorenzo. He obliged.

"What made you marry him?" Lorenzo curiously asked, wanting to know the origins of their story.

"He was funny. He made me laugh, helped me through my depression. Honestly, I can't even put it in words. Your dad is an amazing man and he would be very proud of you, dear."

"Dear? You're like only ten years older, mom."  
"What a way to make a woman feel young, idiot. "  
"You can't even cook a proper steak for me."  
"Shut up. I can now."  
"I'll be the judge of that."  
"Says the guy that overcooked a slab of meat to charcoal."  
"You shut up."

* * *

The SSV Athens is an Alliance frigate currently docked at the LAX. Its metallic, silver coat reflected the passing lights of departing and incoming spacecraft and aircraft. The inside was occupied by a skeleton crew while the rest of the normal crewmen were off in their R&R. Those onboard had a little party to celebrate Christmas Day. Drinks were getting passed around the mess hall; the ten current occupants of the ship enjoyed the night as much as they could.

"Romeo and Juliet is not a romance story! It's a tragedy. Plain and simple." Private First Class Emily Saint-Claire, a twenty year old Alliance technician, argued against her crewmate.

"Oh, please. It is! Marriage in three days, undying love, returning to Juliet even after getting exiled? That's all romance to me, lass." Private First Class Joseph Burns, twenty-three years old, snapped back in a playful way.

PFC Burns was the most senior of the PFCs. He enlisted last year, after deciding that college wasn't for him. He dropped out, enlisted, and hoped for the best. Growing up in Manchester, England, he never really had a set plan for life. Despite his aspirations of becoming a writer, he just didn't get the motivation to do so. That was why he enlisted. Find an inspiration to write about. Make it a bestseller, even. That was the dream.

PFC Saint-Claire signed up for the college scholarship she was promised. Her tech skills were one of the best, and if the Alliance were to dictate her life, she would be an officer by now. She refused, saying that she's not yet ready to lead and would rather have more experience in her field before going on to taking charge of tech specialists. She was born and raised in Edinburgh, Scotland. Her parents naturally opposed her military plans, but Emily Saint-Claire was just adamant to join.

The two bantered about the classification of Romeo and Juliet until the Athens' current officer in charge overheard the two. Second Lieutenant Ceyhan couldn't help but snicker at probably the most random conversation she ever heard aboard the ship. Saint-Claire acknowledged her presence and dragged her in the exchange.

"What do you think, ma'am? Romeo and Juliet, romance or tragedy?" The green-eyed brunette asked.

"Eh… I'm not much of a Shakespearean. Though I do think it's actually classified as tragedy, been that way for centuries. I mean, c'mon, two teenagers getting married that fast, then murder, then suicide? That's all tragedy. No questions asked." Ceyhan retorted. She usually didn't socialize with her marines, but for today, on Christmas, she thought she could let it slide. After all, these men and women were supposed to be home with their families and they chose to stay onboard.

Burns hung his head in defeat and sipped his brandy. "No wonder the turians love that play. It's hard to believe they have a touring group doing that. Imagine that, turians as Romeo and Juliet?" The image of a turian saying, "O, Romeo; O, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" just made him snicker to no end. _Alcohol._

Saint-Claire, however, refused to drink alcohol- especially not at this time where a bunch of people are probably going to hook-up, break fraternization regulations and not give a shit. Not that anyone would give a shit, the superior officers would probably let it slide, all in the good of the holiday season. The officers thought they deserved it anyway. The Marines onboard SSV Athens had been hunting down geth for a year.

The real reason why Saint-Claire didn't want to get intoxicated was so she could check up on a recent close friend of hers. After she claimed all the eggnog on the dinner table, she slipped back into the starboard recreational room; a small place where there was a sofa, stools, and a coffee table.

She drank a few drops of the eggnog before she woke up her omnitool. Scanning through her messages, she decided to compose a new one.

"L,

Merry Christmas to you and your mum. How is the R&R going?  
They're having a party here right now at the mess hall, but it's a wee bit crowded so I snuck out.  
Anyway, just checking up on you. You won't be back for a month, so you can expect more messages from yours truly. Once again, merry Christmas."

She then sent the message on a private setting, away from the Alliance channels- no invasion of privacy with personal friends.

In a fast response, she got a reply almost instantaneously.

"E,

Happy Holidays to you too. That doesn't sound that bad. Just try to enjoy yourself. Speaking of which, I'm having fun as far as I know. Mom's been really great. I'll catch you around."

Emily smiled at the message and continued to drink her eggnog. Curious, she turned the carton around and read the nutritional information printed in the backside. Her eyes darted from the name of product which was aptly named, "Holiday-nog," to its slogan, "The warming side of eggnog! Sweet with the slide of vodka."

She has consumed nearly the entire seasonal beverage, a whole carton.

Her vision gazed lower down the informational text printed. A task that she found was getting increasingly harder to accomplish.

"35% ABV."

_Oh shite._

* * *

The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy was playing throughout the house as Lorenzo stepped out of the shower. _Tuntuntun tun tun tun tuuutuutun-_

"Food's ready!" A feminine voice yelled from downstairs.

"I'll be out in a second!" Lorenzo replied back.

The rising steam settled on the sparkling mirror was then promptly wiped away by his hand to look at himself. He scoffed at how much his body has changed. A year ago he looked very skinny, and now, the marine achieved a near slim-wrestler physique. His light brown skin had bumps from the chill of cold air sweeping through the room. He stared at his reflection's eyes, as if trying to scare away the second Lorenzo that stood leering at him. He focused on the different colored eyes of his. _Heterochromia, hazel on the left, darkened blue on the right._

He ran his hand over his high and tight haircut, then to his chin. That was where the mouthwatering scent of freshly cooked bacon pierced his nostrils. In a reflex response, his hand landed on his stomach and like a child, he hurried to his room, changed, and ran down the stairs. He lips went from corner to corner as he saw the platter of still sizzling bacon.

* * *

SSV Athens filled up with personnel as the holiday season ended. Corporal Lorenzo Ruiz set his luggage down by his bunk before changing out of his dress uniform to his utility one. PFC Burns was by his side the whole time, telling stories that occurred during the one month that Ruiz was gone on his break. The two shared a couple laughs at the escapades of the skeleton crew and how the officer-of-the-deck let it happen before his eyes.

"They played bowling with a cheese ball and empty beer bottles."  
"This isn't college. What the hell?"  
"It was fun."

2ndLt. Ceyhan then approached Ruiz and took him aside. A serious demeanor was planted on his superior officer's face. They boarded the lift down to the armory and Ceyhan opened up her omnitool to show a holographic data reader. Ruiz read the words on the screen and waited for Ceyhan to explain it. She took a second to look at his face first, a puzzled-worried one, before speaking. She chose to be casual to the about-to-be-appointed squad leader.

"This just came in today. They don't want to ring any Citadel bells by sending in a SpecForce or alarming the higher echelons by dropping in N7s. It's below the radar. I know we've only been on geth search and destroy detail, but this is entirely different." The lieutenant paused, making sure that Ruiz was following along. He nodded his head in correspondence.

"Ether-2181 has a research facility, high security clearance. All I've been told is that they were working on biogenetics, alien and human. It's been breached by what we presume, raiders, pirates or a terrorist group. That place holds medical-technological importance. We go in as a patrol, no one would assume anything." She noticed the slow, growing concern in the corporal's face.

"If shit hits the fan, a full force will be right behind us. We're going in with ten individuals. Two squads—one tech specialist for each, two infantry, and a corpsman. I already sent the messages to those going. You'll be the second squad leader, callsign, Nightingale-Two. I'm first, Nightingale-One." Ceyhan made sure that Ruiz was paying attention. He was.

"It's a newly found star system, Ruiz. Only three years ago. Ether-2181 is still largely unexplored. The planet is arid, but has an atmosphere like ours. We won't need breather helmets, but I'd let each choose their preference. I don't want to scare the ones going. As far as I know, we just check the facility, clear out possible hostiles and that's it." Lauren Ceyhan finished, her face implying that if questions were to be asked, Ruiz should go for it, no matter how insubordinate it would made him look. She liked this kid.

"Not to be a greedy bastard, ma'am, but what do we get for going in a black-ops level mission? We're not a SpecForce, much less N7s. Besides you and me, everyone else dropping in is a private… Not much for experience." _Not to mention the fact this sounds very fucking dangerous. _

"I don't know about the rest, but you have something." Ceyhan's words made Ruiz raise an eyebrow.

"Ruiz, you'll be submitted to an N7 screening process. The shit you did in the last three geth takedowns is not something I would even fucking do in a blink of an eye, which you did. You pulled five injured marines out of a destroyed Mako, fought about ten-fifteen husks by yourself when Saint-Claire got abducted from the rendezvous on Plypan and insisted on carrying Mariano's corpse through a motherfucking jungle in Divinia. You got the attention of the high eyes, corporal. I'm even surprised that they haven't presented you some damned medals. I already recommended you for multiple awards." Ceyhan was enthusiastic about explaining this to Ruiz. She was determined to get this kid out of the common crowd. He certainly had the potential to be an N7 officer.

Ruiz stood with his thoughts thinking back to his past actions. _So that's why I was promoted to corporal so fast._ Being an N7 never even touched his ideas. He thought it was impossible for him, a year-in-the-service marine, to be even considered in the least of the least.

Ceyhan sighed before finishing. "You're a damn blessing to the SSV Athens since you got reassigned here. I wish you'd be commissioned as an officer already. I seriously think you can lead shit better than me. Well, anyway, we'll be in Ether-2181 in a few hours. The system is so close to us; it's a miracle we haven't detected it even with the 20th century astronomers looking up the sky back then. Well, I'll leave you to it."

She turned around, flicked her omnitool to sleep, and headed towards the lift, noticing the surprise on Ruiz's face. He just nodded his head and said, "Aye-aye, ma'am."

"One thing though, Ruiz? If you end up outranking me, a couple rounds of drinks are on me."

The corporal then offered an assuring laugh before the lift's hatch closed before him.

When Ruiz got back to the crew quarters, he walked in the middle of Burns and Cravich talking about how to make classic alcohol cocktails. They were switching recipes between a "Screwdriver," to a "Grasshopper." Ruiz went on to sit down by his bunk, turn on his omnitool to read more into Ether-2181. Ceyhan was correct, the planet was indeed arid and the atmosphere is very similar to Earth. As a matter of fact, the whole planet was comparable to the deserts of Earth, minus the heat. Ether-2184 has a nearly constant temperature of sixty degrees Fahrenheit. He debated whether or not to go with a breather helmet. He decided to go with one. He wouldn't want sand and such in his eyes.

As he read on, his mind trailed him off to something else. Specifically, how Alissa, his mom, joked around with him being invited in the N7 program. _Dad, if you're reading my thoughts, you better be fucking proud of me._ After reading the information behind Ether-2181, he looked over his squad, who was in it and how would they respond to him being in charge of them as a squad leader. He read his list, before sending it off to Ceyhan.

"Nightingale-Two  
Squad Leader: Corporal Ruiz, L.  
Tech Specialist: Private First Class Saint-Claire, E.  
Corpsman: Serviceman 3rd Class Petra, M.

Private First Class Burns, R. and Private Second Class Cravich, F. are also in. Anything else I should know, ma'am?

-Ruiz, L  
Corporal  
SSV Athens."

In just a few seconds, he got a reply, simply saying, "All clear. Have your squad readied up in an hour."

Ruiz exhaled, catching the attention of his squad. He turned his head, shrugging his shoulders, and looked at them. They stopped talking about whatever they were talking about and waited for him to say something; something that would relate to the upcoming mission. Ruiz wasn't much of a motivational speaker or anything of the sort. He only had to give one in high school, for a grade. This one however, carried a lot more of responsibility. He wanted to guarantee that he is capable of leading them, his friends, into the fray where combat is more than likely going to occur. Ruiz forced his eyes close for a second to think of how to start it off.

"Look, I was surprised too. The lieutenant made me a squad leader on the spot. I wasn't going to complain. Mariano is gone and I'm the only marine non-commissioned officer onboard, even if I am not a senior NCO, I'll take care of you guys as best as I can." He licked his lips in a swift manner, trying to hide his apparent nervousness.

"Off the record, you guys are my friends; I won't let shit happen, man." He looked to his right, as if to look for something to read to go on.

"We'll be fine. It's just a routine one. In, search, and then out. Nothing too big." He ensured them.

"We'll be fine." He repeated.

_We'll be fine._

* * *

Nervous. Confused. Unsure.

Despite all the training she went through in the Officer Candidate School, 2ndLt Ceyhan couldn't help but feel those three words. The mission she was just assigned was too quickly given. No prior briefings were held. It was just handed down to her the day that SSV Athens left Los Angeles. The mission was confirmed when they reached the Arcturus Relay. The 27 year old pinched the bridge of her stressed nose. She's only been a year and a half out of OCS and now here she is, to lead her marines into a mission that reeked of black ops involvement. Somehow, Ceyhan couldn't stop thinking that they were expendable and that they were about to be expended.

_Stow that shit, lieutenant._

She finished putting her hair up in a bun. Satisfied with it, she left her quarters to speak with the ship's commanding officer before heading down to the armory.

_I need to get a boyfriend._

* * *

The weapons of the 22nd century were nothing that could ever be conceived a hundred years ago. Sidearms, assault rifles, sniper rifles, and shotguns, basically any firearm were now powered by mass effect technology. Each weapon housed a small mass accelerator that would fire off chippings from a steel block at a very small fraction of the speed of light. Even so, the round itself was just a sand grain-sized projectile travelling at an exuberant velocity which would cause massive trauma; and if the opponent's shields falters, it was more than likely going to be lethal if the armor didn't stop it.

Likewise, the modern protection for hazards might it be ballistics or environmental, has changed. Two or so centuries ago, complete mobility in a spacesuit and thorough protection against nature with bullet-proof armor was non-existent. Now, they were all condensed into one. A modern hardsuit; safety against the harsh diverse environment of varying planets and a protective detail from fast-moving projectiles, it was the epitome of mobile individual safety.

The hardsuit too, came with microcomputers. It allowed for an enormously wide array of versatility. A user could get shot and the suit's mass effect shields would deflect the incoming rounds. In the event that the shields fail, the ablative plating on the suit itself would offer additional protection. If the user gets hit, the suit's computers would administer the proper amount of medigel to alleviate the pain and heal the wound, unless it's severe. Not to mention the fact that a hardsuit would try to repair itself if the damage isn't a major one. A hardsuit fitted for humans was no bulkier than a medieval man wearing a steel helmet, chainmail, plate trousers, and greaves. It was also much lighter than the said knight's armor.

The Hahne-Kedar Lancer M-7 assault rifle was the current standard service weapon for Alliance infantry. It shot off its projectiles at the rate of 900 rounds per minute; it was an extremely reliable rifle. At least it was for Ruiz. His rifle has been in mud, snow, sand, and water and the weapon fired as if it was still newly serviced. He cleaned his rifle regularly and tuned the sights. If he had a credit chit for every geth he had taken down with this weapon, he wouldn't have to work anymore.

"_Ether System relay in range. Approach run has begun."_ The radio in Ruiz's suit announced. It was the ship's pilot.

Ruiz had time to put his breather helmet on before the pilot continued with his announcement. The helmet hissed as it pressurized and started to circulate oxygen throughout the whole hardsuit.

"_Contact with relay in 3… 2… 1."_

The SSV Athens rocked slightly and the marines and crewmen on the hangar bay stood their ground as the ship jumped several light-years from their current position.

"_Brace for deceleration."_

"_All systems able. Drift, 1400K."_

The ship stopped shuddering. Everyone returned to their tasks. In five seconds, the lift's hatch opened. 2ndLt Ceyhan and her squad came out and proceeded to ready themselves by putting on their hardsuits and acquiring their weapons.

Ruiz clasped the last piece of his hardsuit on, the gauntlets. As he stretched his body out to adapt to his slightly constricted form, Ceyhan once again approached him with her omnitool projecting a hologram of information. She did a double take when she saw that Ruiz was wearing a breather helmet.

"Breather?"  
"Not a fan of sand, ma'am."

Ceyhan nodded in agreement and went over the mission outline once more. The two squads were to split after the main entrance has been breached. Nightingale-One would cover the left side of the facility, the offices. Nightingale-Two would head on to scan the right side, the living quarters. The facility had three levels, two above ground and one under. The underground level was to be covered by both squads once the higher levels were declared clear. SSV Athens would stay in orbit after dropping them in and offer overhead support, fire and reconnaissance, should the need arise.

After taking notes with his own omnitool, Ruiz passed the mission outline to the rest of his squad. He turned to them and sized them up. If it wasn't for Saint-Claire, the whole squad would be filled same-heighted marine plus a Navy corpsman. All of them held Lancer M-7s, with the exception of Cravich, who wielded a Rosenkov Materials' M-97 Viper sniper rifle. As the squad's marksman, it was to be expected. They all wore identical hardsuits in the Alliance colors—a camouflage pattern of dark blue, deep purple, and black. Surprisingly, the whole of Nightingale-Two wore breather helmets. _Nice, better recognition, I suppose. _Ruiz thought.

"Hey, lieutenant! Nightingale-Two is all breather helmets!" Burns joked, his Manchester accent apparent through the radios of everyone in the same channel.

"Good, that's actually a good idea. Easier to identify who belongs in what." Ceyhan said as she holstered her sidearm.

"_Entering Ether-2141's atmosphere… We have landed. Drop point. We are ten feet off groundside. Mission is a go."_

"_I repeat; mission is a go."_

"Nightingale-Two on me." Ruiz ordered calmly as he jumped off the SSV Athens' wide open bay doors.

The four behind him promptly dropped as well and quickly secured a small perimeter.

"Nightingale-Two, all boots on deck. Proceeding to main entrance, over." The corporal coolly reported as he got his whole squad moving towards the big bulkhead that stood a few meters away from all of them.

The system's sun, Ether, shone down on them as they maneuvered around protruding rocks and the breeze itself carried grains of sand which irritated the squad of Nightingale-One. They immediately regretted the decision to not wear breather helmets. Nightingale-Two, on the other hand, felt comfortable against the light sand storm that seemed to envelop the vicinity.

"_SSV Athens is in orbit. Good luck down there. Out."_

Ruiz's squad stacked up against the bulkhead and Saint-Claire proceeded to unlock it and disable security measures.

"Got it." She whispered to herself as the entrance screeched open.

"We're able. Nightingale-One, want to take point?" Ruiz asked, partly unsure.

"Copy." Ceyhan responded, sending her squad in and sweeping the left side of the lobby. Ruiz's swept the right side. Seeing no threats, they both declared, "Lobby cle-"

Something in the darker end of the lobby pinged loud.

A burst of gunfire missed the entire of Ceyhan's squad by a few feet.

"Contact front, by the elevators!" One of the men in Nightingale-One directed.

A few meters ahead of them, about seven armed men fired at them with assault rifles. The blue flashes given off by their weapons reflected against the chrome ceiling. It also gave away their positions right away in the otherwise, dim lobby. In a span of three seconds, Ceyhan's and Ruiz's squads promptly took cover behind walls. Ruiz ordered Burns and Cravich to circle around the wall and flank the attackers. Ceyhan's squad got pinned down, as it seemed that the attackers didn't know that Ruiz's squad existed and was about to gun them down. Cravich radioed, "We have them, Corporal." When Ruiz gave the go, an additional wave of gunfire intertwined with the cacophony of firearms going off.

When the firing stopped, all Alliance personnel on deck heard a morbid, but amusing, "Fucking shit, right in the fucking balls! Ah, fuck!" Ceyhan wanted to interrogate the source of the scream, but before she could make a move, everyone heard an ending single shot. Whoever was screaming opted out.

Burns then went over to check the bodies. "Seven KIA, four humans, three turians. Lobby clear!" He announced. "I found the light." He added, finding a switchboard and turning it on.

The lobby lit up and everybody saw the dead bodies that lined the walls in the right corner. They were cleanly arranged and it was apparent that the projectiles that shot through their heads imbedded themselves in the wall. The victims heads' were split open and gore stood spilled by their bodies. Ceyhan's squad now wished they really wore breather helmets as the rancid smell of dead flesh and brain matter offended their noses.

"Athens, we found bodies. Executed. We have seven enemy KIA. They don't fit any known terrorist or mercenary profile. Proceeding with sweep, over." 2ndLt Ceyhan reported, examining the bodies once more.

"_Copy that, Nightingale-One, Athens out."_

After going over the mission outline in a quick manner, the squads split up. Ruiz swallowed his nervousness and directed his squad into the right-side hallways. "Burns, take point." He ordered.

As they swept through rooms, his squad would hear the occasional gunfire. Followed by a radio assurance that Ceyhan's squad was all good and they just ran across more armed hostiles. This fact alone made him a bit more secured as he was partly glad that the enemy wasn't converging on him.

"Clear right."

"Clear left."

"Hallway, clear."

Then a stairwell revealed itself around a corner.

"Nightingale-One, we are proceeding to the second level, over."

"_Copy. Proceed with caution, Nightingale-Two. Out."_

Burns reached the top step and said it was clear which sent the whole squad up. It was more of quarters along a narrower hallway. In an efficient way, they cleared their side of the floor. Ruiz reported to the SSV Athens that the right wing was clear and would go downstairs to link up with Nightingale-One to proceed to the laboratories downstairs, which, if the floor plans were completely accurate, much larger than all of the upper levels combined.

They were heading downstairs when they heard an explosion. It came from the left wing, as the sound echoed through the facility, the source was easily found. Then there was the barrage of gunfire.

"Sit-rep, Nightingale-One, over." Ruiz radioed, he was professional, but there was no hiding the concern in his tone.

"_They came in from an elevator behind us! We didn't see it, there's about fifteen personnel firing at us, they're not the same ones as before, fucking unidentified race! Martinez is down! We're pinned down in clinic- Philips, that fucking corner is wide open, they're going to flank us- Shit. Philips is down! Ah, motherfu-" _There was thud on the other end. He lost contact with Ceyhan.

"Come in, Lieutenant, over." Ruiz radioed once more as his squad moved their way up the left wing.

"Nightingale-One, come in, over." No one was replying back.

He ordered the squad to stack up against a bulkhead and tried once more to contact Ceyhan's squad. No response, still. The gunfire stopped a few seconds ago, though they were followed by a couple of screams that faded eventually. With growing frustration, he radioed to SSV Athens.

"SSV Athens, we lost contact with Nightingale-One. We are outside their last known location. Possible friendly casualties. Please advise, over.

"_Nightingale-Two, do what you have to do. We'll send off a distress call on your word. Out."_

* * *

Ruiz didn't want to think of the worst, but he had to consider it to make the proper choices from here on. If Ceyhan was indeed KIA, he would be in charge of both squads, presuming that Nightingale-One still has able-bodied men. He looked at Burns and Saint-Claire who were waiting for him to give an order. He was definitely more frustrated than scared. _Fucking knew it. Shit. Fuck. _

He had thought fast and hard. He has no idea where the "elevator" that ended up ambushing Ceyhan's squad was located, the "behind us," clue was rather obscured. Ruiz whispered, "Fuck," to himself before going on to give orders.

"Petra, we're going to need you if there are wounded on the other side, stay here. Cover that hallway." He directed to where they entered the left wing from. Petra took his rifle and found a covered position by what seemed to be a pillar.

"Cravich, stay here on this hatch. If we go in and there are still hostiles, we're going to count on you to take out the ones that we don't have a visual on. Clear?" Cravich just nodded in acknowledgement and adjusted his rifle's scope to a lower zoom.

"Burns, Saint-Claire, you'll be on me. Be my shadow, that's it. Okay?" Ruiz said, his inflection was showered with concern.

"Ready?" The two moved their heads positively.

Ruiz pulled the door and rushed in to the left side where there was an overturned metal table. They were greeted with a hail of enemy fire. Saint-Claire was the only one that managed to get slight visual on the attackers. Ruiz asked her to describe them.

"Bipedal, four eyes, bloody fucking big heads, and wings." She passed on, not knowing what race they were.

_Wings? Fucking wings?_ Ruiz thought to himself. "How many?" He wondered out loud.

"About four of them. They look like walking bugs. I saw them too." Burns snapped back. He too, was frustrated with the situation.

"_I got two of them lined up. Shall I take the shot? I don't have a visual on you guys."_ Cravich radioed.

"Fucking do it man." Ruiz replied.

There was a sharp bang as Cravich's rifle fired off a round. It was immediately followed by two heavy thuds—no screaming in pain or cry for help. Saint-Claire peeked out to see if the other two zeroed in on them. They weren't. She only saw two dead bodies a few meters ahead of them.

"_The other two went by the… clinic. Big red cross, can't miss it." _The marksman reported, slowly shifting his position for a better view of the room.

"Copy." Ruiz then instructed Burns to cover him and for Saint-Claire to follow as he pursued the two remaining hostiles.

Nearly hugging the wall, Ruiz stopped by the doorway. He heard a noise, like a very quick flapping sound. _Wings._ He signaled to Burns and Saint-Claire that he was about to enter. Burns responded by raising his rifle towards the door, should any try to force their way out, he would take them down.

When Saint-Claire tapped him on the shoulder to signal that she was ready, Ruiz burst through the doorway. For some reason, he expected the winged enemy to lunge at him and kill him, but in reality, he was the one that got the jump on them. In a swift span of five seconds, Ruiz fired off fourteen rounds from his rifle and the remaining two hostiles dropped dead. Ruiz panted as the nervousness came back again.

"Room clear. No sign of… Wait a second." He sighted a… hand, by a desk riddled with pock marks.

Saint-Claire ran to it as Burns entered the room.

"Corporal, its Martinez's arm." Saint-Claire confirmed. Scanning it with her omnitool, she detected the engagement ring on the hand. It was clear that she tried to hold back her disgust.

Ruiz exhaled sharply at the news. He looked around the room, searching for more clues. When he turned on his omnitool's torchlight, Ruiz was looking at a massive trail of blood that led to a wall. _I thought the elevator was behind… What the fuck, this is confusing._ He decided to report in to the SSV Athens, update them on the current situation. Before doing so, he told Burns and Saint-Claire to keep searching around the small clinic.

"Athens, this is Nightingale-Two. We have encountered four hostiles of unknown origin. They don't match any species we have on record. Sending photographs now." He said, using his helmet's display linked to his omnitool to take a picture of the downed enemies.

"_We got it, Nightingale-Two. Searching databases now. What's the situation with Nightingale-One?"_

"Unknown. We found Martinez's left arm and quite the blood trail leading to wall, over."

"_Copy. We're having some problems with the comms up here, over."_

"I got you. Static buildup. Call the backup. We're going to need it, over."

_"On it. The nearest force is several relay jumps away. It's going to take about thirty minutes, tops."_

"I don't care. Send them in. We're going to keep searching for Nightingale-One, over."

"_Solid copy. Take caution. Out."_

The static noise was overlapping with the voice that Ruiz nearly didn't recognize the last line. He wanted to try radioing to Ceyhan's squad again.

"Nightingale-One, come in."

He waited five seconds. No reply.

Saint-Claire and Burns then asked him what to do next, seeing as they pretty much reached a dead end. Ruiz kneeled over the two slain enemies. They had a very peculiar dermal layer which made it seem they are actual bipedal bugs. Their blood as it shows, was colored light beige, it flowed through one's larger-than-average-specie head. The four eyes continued to glow even though they were dead. _Who are you and what are you doing here?_

"Corporal, I think we should head to the laboratory." Burns suggested and offered a hand to Ruiz to pull himself up.

"Yeah."

As he stood up with Burns' assistance, there was a second explosion, then followed by Cravich and Petra screaming in agony. Ruiz, Burns, and Saint-Claire immediately took off to check up on them.

"SHIT, MY FUCKING LEG! PETRA, HELP ME!" Cravich's voice trailed away fast as it evident that someone was dragging him farther down the hallway.

_The ambush elevator!_

The three arrived by the doorway just in time to see another one of the unknown enemy pommel Petra's head on the pillar he recently used as cover. His armor was marked with gunshot wounds, they were bleeding profusely. Petra was barely alive when the last bash finally killed him off. The killer got gunned down very shortly after.

"SSV Athens, Petra is KIA. We got ambushed. Same place where Nightingale-One did, over."

No reply. _Fucking comms._

"Shit, he's dead, we can't do anything. It looks like they have nowhere to go except the lab in the basement, let's go. We don't know what they'll do to Cravich or if they have rest, to them. Now." Ruiz barked; he was going to kill the sons of bitches.

Nightingale-Two pursued the attackers and caught them in time getting a ride in the elevator. They shot at the three who took the now-unconscious Cravich. Saint-Claire tagged one in the leg, but it didn't seem to bother the victim.

"Athens, we are in pursuit of the captors. We are headed to the basement. Comms might get worse. Out." Ruiz reported. He didn't expect a reply and it never came. As far as they know, there was radio silence.

When the elevator opened once more, the three got in right away.

"Burns, Saint-Claire, take cover by the panels. I'll lay prone. When this door opens, I'm sure they'll be shitting on us. Shit back right away or we'll all be dead."

_Ding!_

Four assault rifles were trained on the small compartment and Ruiz got the lot of it. His shields nearly depleted and he would've gotten mortally wounded if it weren't for Burns and Saint-Claire returning fire when the doors opened. It only transpired over three seconds, but for Ruiz, it felt longer. His heart rate was going full force when he knew that his shields were going to expire.

"Thanks. Shit." Ruiz panted as the other two spanned out and continued to sweep the immediate vicinity.

"Clear." The two announced as they walked back to Ruiz.

"_Nightingale-Two, come in."_ The SSV Athens radioed.

"_We are tracking a possible hostile cruiser on the scanners. Hang tight. Out."_

The three continued on to the rest of the laboratory, finding it surprising that the place is barely untouched save for the drag marks of blood which they were following. The lights were dim in the level, the power for the whole facility was low and they all guessed that if they stayed here longer, it would completely go out.

As they reached the end of a dark corridor, a double-door greeted them. It was locked, and Saint-Claire was immediately sent to the case. They couldn't afford to waste a valuable second, as they knew that the clock was literally clicking on this one.

When the door's console turned green, it hissed open and in the favor of Ruiz's squad, no one fired at them. The room was completely black. A clinking noise kept repeating itself somewhere around the room. They couldn't locate it as the echo bounced on the walls. Saint-Claire scanned the room for a light outlet or a switchboard. The lights then turned on automatically.

"The lights react to the door. If it opens, there's a ten second delay before it lights up." Saint-Claire figured it out as soon as the lights proceeded to illuminate the whole room.

Burns caught a head moving through the cabinets and he immediately opened fire.

"He's running!" Burns chased the figure, fired off a couple rounds, and ran after it.

Ruiz and Saint-Claire were on his tail when they saw him drop to the floor. The fleeing enemy though, was dead.

"Ripped through my shields, got me in the thigh. He was headed for that, saw the other two with Cravich. They headed in and didn't bother to secure the door." Burns pointed, gasping for breath while clutching his wound.

"How bad?" Ruiz asked, kneeling next to him.

"I'll be fine. Might have to limp though." Burns said.

The two watched PFC Burns walk around with a slight gait before proceeding to where the door remained ajar. The blood trail, Cravich and someone else's led into it. Ruiz got up and radioed again.

"Nightingale-One, come in."

Still no response.

Saint-Claire took point and opened the door. Once the three got in, two enemy figures popped out of cover and opened fire on them. Burns shot one directly in the head and Saint-Claire barraged the other in the torso. A quick gunfight ensued, but it ended as fast as it started.

"I think that's all of them." Ruiz questioned. The others were still nowhere to be found.

"RUIZ!" A different voice yelled out.

"Lieutenant! Where are you?" Ruiz snapped back, recognizing the voice, but can't find out where it came from.

"Behind the bookshelf! Push it aside and prepare your fucking eyes!" She warned, her voice obviously strained.

Ruiz and Saint-Claire pushed the only bookshelf in the room while Burns pointed his rifle downrange, just in case a hostile revealed itself. Nothing came out.

_Holy fucking shit…_ That was all Ruiz could say in his mind when they entered the sub-room.

* * *

"What the fuck is this fucking place?!" Ruiz demanded an answer, particularly from no one.

"I don't… know. It's not only humans. Philips and Cravich are farther back… Let me go, would you?" Ceyhan asked, there was certainly pain her voice and she wasn't bothering to hide it. It was too apparent that she is very injured. She didn't have her helmet on anymore; she had a deep gash on her right cheek and her nose was pretty much broken, blood was dripping freely out of it. Her face was markedly bruised.

The room was unreal. _A byproduct of a fucking psycho, a fucking horror movie. _There were bodies of turians and asari on the surgery beds, they were amputated. Asari bodies with human limbs sewn forcefully. Human heads completely skinned and attached to a decapitated turian's body. Bodies cut up and wide open, inner organs dangling out. Human and asari heads with no eyes, teeth all pulled, arms and legs broken in impossible angles; turian limbs surgically sewn in a salarian's body. This all reminded Ruiz of a subject they covered in high school.

_Dr. Josef Mengele. The Angel of Death. Nazis. Experimentation with twins. Who the fuck would do this..?_

"Where's the rest of Nightingale-One?" Saint-Claire asked, her voice was obviously shaking.

"Look on the ceiling." Ceyhan emotionlessly replied.

There they were. Completely stripped off of their hardsuits, the remainder of Ceyhan's squad hanged by their necks. Their bodies were riddled with holes. _Motherfucking…_

"What… happened here?" Ruiz stammered.

"This isn't an Alliance base. Not a Cerberus cell either. Despite what I initially thought…" Ceyhan trailed off.

"This is someone else's research facility under the guise of an Alliance cover. I don't know who it belongs to, but it seems that they're researching shit that doesn't ever need to be researched." Burns concluded, forgetting the pain in his thigh.

"Where's Cravich and Phillips?" Ruiz asked, his tone devoid of emotion.

"They ripped their heads off in front of me. The bodies are in the back, I know. The heads… I don't know. I don't know. The rest of the aliens ran away. I don't know where they went, but they never came back." Ceyhan gasped, it was clear that she was obviously shaken already.

"SSV Athens… I found Lieutenant Ceyhan. She's very injured, we need a medevac. Everyone else is gone." Ruiz radioed.

"_Ruiz, we're under fire from an unknown vessel. We are being pursued and ca-"_ The communication got cut off.

In the next few seconds, the remaining four marines heard a very loud metallic groan coming from topside. It continued for several more heartbeats until a deafening roar of an explosion rocked the whole facility. They didn't need someone to tell them what just occurred.

_Fuck._

* * *

They couldn't raise SSV Athens on the comms radio. They couldn't contact the backup that they requested either. They were all alone in a laboratory filled with atrocious experiments. Seeing no better alternative, the four moved themselves out of the basement and unto the lobby. They were quiet the whole way up.

Ceyhan heard something in the elevator though. She pressed the "hold close" button on the elevator's console and she pressed her ear against the doors.

"Someone is out there. I think they're armed." Ceyhan expressed her concern. She was in no shape to fight effectively anymore as her fingers were also broken by the unknown species.

"Shit. Same drill. Saint-Claire, Burns, just fucking rip through them. Ma'am, stay behind me. Are your shields still working?"

"No."

"Then better get hope we don't get shot at more."

The lieutenant then let go of the hold close button.

_Ding._

A loud barrage of gunfire filled everyone's ears as Ruiz, Saint-Claire and Burns didn't hesitate to open fire at the assailants. Burns took another hit in the same thigh and Saint-Claire had a projectile graze her arm. Ruiz took a round straight to the sternum when his shields depleted. The enemies were neutralized, but he didn't feel any better. The wind got knocked out of him and his chest sent the hands of hell caressing his ribs. _Shit, shit, shit._

When Ceyhan slapped him in the face, that's where Ruiz realized that the shot was absorbed by his hardsuit. It was made evident when he felt through his chestplate and found the indentation which was still warm.

"You're fucking lucky, Ruiz. Get up." He groaned as Saint-Claire and Ceyhan pulled him up.

PFC Saint-Claire returned to assist Burns in even walking. He was paralyzed. His legs refused to operate.

"I'll be fine, mate. Just a sprain." The senior PFC jokingly assured.

Wasting no time, Ruiz hurried over to check the bodies of the assailants. They weren't the same as the alien race they encountered in the lower levels. These were humans and turians. They were equipped with black and white top-of-the-line hardsuits that bore an enigmatic insignia in the breastplate, a triangular-shaped emblem. _Just who the fuck are you guys? Did you work with the alien race here?_

In the following minutes, Burns injuries stabilized themselves with the help of the constant application of medigel. Ceyhan drifted in and out of consciousness. Considering the trauma she's been through, it was expected of her to be in that way. Ruiz had Saint-Claire run out of the lobby and above the main entrance to try and locate where the wreckage of SSV Athens lay. She came back saying that the ship was about a good thousand-meters away from the facility and that it was completely decimated; parts of the ship were strewn all of the place. She regretted zooming in the wreckage with her helmet as she saw the charred remains of some crew members.

_How is the brass going to handle this? An unknown race, an unknown group of armed hostiles, a wreckage of an Alliance ship and tens of dead Alliance personnel are all here! I knew this was going to shit… God damn it._

Ruiz helped Ceyhan sit down by the main entrance as Burns proceeded to relax himself. Only Ruiz and Saint-Claire had functioning weapons and the capacity to operate the systems… but they didn't need to.

In a few moments, an Alliance ship came and landed right in front of the facility. A detail of marines formed a perimeter as another marine came jogging towards them.

"Corporal Ruiz?" The man inquired.

Ruiz moved his head in acceptance.

"Staff Lieutenant Dixon, 10th Frontier Division, 1st Brigade, 3rd IR. We picked up your ship's distress call, but we lost it about twenty five minutes ago. Where's the SSV Athens?" The officer wondered, a slight southern American accent twanged in his voice.

"It's about a half-mile away from here. Nothing but scrap heap and dead bodies, sir." Ceyhan proclaimed. Ruiz assumed she was getting delirious, as she would never talk in this manner.

After a few more questions by the Staff Lieutenant, the four were eventually invited into the SSV Waterloo, where there were then taken care of. First manner of business was to head back to Earth to file the report. Ceyhan was completely unconscious when they jumped the relays and Burns was getting his legs checked by the doctor in the medbay. Saint-Claire immediately fell asleep in the crew's quarters, as the Staff Lieutenant ordered for a bunk for her. Ruiz didn't complain. His friend has been through a lot. He fell asleep shortly too.

* * *

Back on Earth, Ruiz was the only one instructed to leave the SSV Waterloo to face the paperwork that was about to hit him. He expected it too. He already took off his damaged hardsuit for repairs and Ruiz paraded the halls of the Alliance Diplomatic building in Johannesburg in his utility uniform. His body was still sore from the events that transpired a mere seven hours ago, but here he was, about to file in what occurred exactly on that forsaken place.

As he closed the door in a room with a single desk, two arm chairs, and a swivel chair facing away from him, he knew that he wasn't going to just file paperwork.

"It's nice to finally see you, Corporal Ruiz." The swivel chair sitter muttered.

"Good morning…-" He watched as the chair turned around and have the figure stand up and greet him.

"… Sir." Ruiz finished.

"Let's cut the pleasantries. What happened in Ether-2181?" The voice said, stern, authoritative.

Ruiz stammered at the first attempt of his retelling. He somehow felt that he wouldn't want to give the false information to his man. He wasn't sure if this man was even Alliance, but he was instructed to go to him immediately. The man didn't wear an Alliance uniform of any sort, just a plain business suit, that kind you would see on a typical New York City stock holder. Ruiz just sensed this man isn't to be trifled with. Despite his frustrations with what happened hours earlier, he didn't let it transfer to his retelling of events.

Satisfied with what he has retold, he became quiet. Ruiz watched the man nod his head, as if to intake every word the he just said. "Please, sit." He offered. Corporal Ruiz took the chance to rest his very sore legs.

"I'm Captain Levi, Alliance Navy. I'm the one that's supposed to approve the request for you to get screened for N7 training. You've got quite the record. Surprised they haven't given you medals yet." He paused, taking a sip of whichever liquor that his glass held.

"I am honored, sir." Ruiz was more than that, he was flattered.

"But I'm not here to talk about that. I'm here to discuss what the fallout from Ether-2181 will be." Ruiz looked at the captain with uncertainty. He's starting to not like the conversation already.

"You see, no one was supposed to survive that. NO ONE. The SSV Athens, everyone was supposed to be offed there. It would be marked down as an Alliance patrol party getting overrun by pirates. You were supposed to be DEAD!" He yelled, slamming his aged hand on the wooden, ornate desk. The glass of liquor bounced in recoil.

Ruiz figured the room was soundproofed.

"You see, for information to be properly extracted, inhumane things sometime needs to get achieved. That's what your men saw. Information." He calmed down, at least that's what it seemed like.

"Sir… those were people. Desecrated in ways no one should ever be." Ruiz was nearly inaudible, which was what he aimed for at the presence of a superior that could send him in the brig for a completely untruthful cause.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW?! You are not even supposed to be sitting there, having this conversation, your people should not even be onboard the SSV Waterloo. You are supposed to be DEAD. You saw things no living Alliance personnel besides me, have seen. That, my son, is a very dangerous thing. If this gets out… Do you want another war with the turians? A new one with asari? Catch the attention of the fucking krogans?" He explained.

"That mission never happened. A different statement will be released. Same shit. You were patrolling over an Alliance facility when a siege of pirates overwhelmed your force. Four people survived. That's it. Make no mistake, your friends will have this same exact conversation and be made to sworn to secrecy." The captain was firm with his statement.

Ruiz was tempted to offer a retort of, "Or else what?" but decided against it.

"Don't worry. You'll be commended still. For your actions and bravery, you'll get all the medals that were waiting for you, an approval stamp on your N7 screening admission, and a commission to being a Second Lieutenant. People would look up to you, become a small symbol. Hell, since Shepard is dead, you might replace him." Levi paused again, this time to pour himself more liquor and take more sips.

_Fuck you, drunkard motherfucker._

"Everyone is gonna know your story, your exploits in your first year of service. You'll be almost Grissom-like! Except you don't have a damned hidden past to explain your fast steps up the rank ladder. Second Lieutenant Ruiz. Sounds proper, doesn't it?"

_First you refer to Commander Shepard and then Admiral Grissom? How many Alliance icons could you taint?_

"You're a quiet kid. I like that. You will never speak of this conversation. Don't worry, I'm sure your friends would be easier to talk to. My employer knows how to handle all types of people and hold them by the balls if needed to." He finished.

Ruiz tried to hold himself together, but he couldn't. His anger and frustration on all the events just burst out in his rebuttal, but he was still civil, calm-like, "And what if I don't keep my mouth shut, Captain?"

Captain Levi stood up, out of the shadows of his swivel chair and antique desk. He towered over Ruiz who was still sitting down. His black suit absorbed the sun's rays peeking through the distinctly handmade window blinds.

"I don't know, Ruiz. People disappear without trace mysteriously all the time." His answer was ominous. His voice was relaxed, but entirely threatening.

Levi then stamped a couple of papers and handed it to Ruiz. "File this in on the admin desk on your way out and wait for your promotion, your medals, and your invitation in the following days."

As Ruiz reached over the desk to claim the files, something glinted in the captain's left epaulet, a pin. It was subtle, but it was there. It was _the same fucking emblem on the mercenaries in Ether-2181; _a triangular red insignia. He kept quiet and tried to restrain himself even more from completely grabbing Levi's head and caving it in using the liquor bottle.

He held the papers in his hand and turned around, about to exit the room when Levi added something else.

"I hear Los Angeles is nice this time of the year. I also heard someone cooks steak nicely there now." The captain muttered, a grin formed on his face as he accepted his victory.

Ruiz dropped his head in utter defeat.

He stepped out of the room, marched across the building, and dropped the papers off by the admin desk, as he was instructed.

* * *

The administrative officer could only shake his head in complete confusion as a small pile of paper were slammed on her desk while the "slammer" walked away before she could ask what was the paperwork about. She figured it out on her own anyway.

She did have to admit that the Marine that just dropped the papers off was quite the looker.


End file.
